Waiting for an Excuse
by Venus Smurf
Summary: He's enchanted and will do anything to find out more about her...and she's just waiting for an excuse to kill him. MinaXMal
1. Only Killed Twice

A.N.: Yes, yes, another story. Shut up. I'll get to the others soon enough.

Summary: Malachite has been reborn and is living a normal life, having completely forgotten the whole deal with Beryl or his previous life. Everything is going pretty well until he runs into this crazy blonde chick...who might just be stalking him. She won't tell him anything about herself and seems to hate him, though that doesn't stop him from falling completely head over heels for her. Soon enough, _he's _the one doing the stalking, and she's just waiting for an excuse to kill him.

"Waiting for an Excuse"

By Venus Smurf

It was one of those cloudless days that should have been warm but wasn't, the kind that heralds the end of summer and the beginning of autumn. The sunlight filtering through the trees seemed a little too pale, somehow almost fake, but now and then a lone bird still sang of summertime dreams. Mina paused every time she heard one of those solitary trills, cornflower blue eyes automatically searching the trees until she'd found the source. She watched each one for a moment, smiling softly as she followed their paths to nest or branch or into sky. She was a summer's child herself, and it was nice to know she still had a little time before the cold chased even the birds away.

Still, she couldn't help shivering slightly as a gentle but still far from warm breeze sifted through her hair. Summer's child or not, she was still practical when she had to be, and she'd dressed for the cold. She'd donned one of her lighter jackets, a smart leather creation that was really more for show than anything else. It still managed to take the edge off the chill, though, and that was needed today. Her slender legs were safely encased in a pair of absurdly expensive—but very much worth it!—jeans, and she'd completed the outfit by jamming a matching beanie over her blonde head. She'd shoved her gloved hands into her jacket pockets, wanting a little extra warmth on this deceptively sunny day, but she was smiling, too.

Another bird called out, and she paused once more, turning her eyes a little to her right. The bird was perched on a low billboard across the street, singing as cheerfully as though winter wasn't just around the corner. Mina's smile widened just a little as she listened, but then she glanced almost automatically to the billboard itself, and the smile was gone.

A dead man was looking back at her.

Mina's heart stopped.

The urge to flee was almost overpowering. Had she possessed even a little less self-control, it would have been. As it was, every muscle in Mina's body had stiffened with the effort of staying in place, and her fingers had clenched into bloodless fists at her sides. Her expression was tense to the point of pain, though all color had drained from her face the instant she'd realized just who this man was.

_He's supposed to be dead. He _is _dead…so why isn't he dead?!_

_Oh, gods._

He was handsome, for a dead man, though of course she wasn't thinking about that. If she was thinking at all, in this moment and through the shock, she was only thinking how impossible this was…and how, given the way her life usually went, she probably should have expected it anyway. They'd only killed him twice, after all, and in her world, that obviously just wasn't enough.

Mina closed her eyes briefly, hoping he'd be gone when she looked again, knowing she was being illogical but unable to help herself. He was still there, of course, and as she continued to stare up at him, it seemed only right that she begin to curse…

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He hadn't really noticed her, at first. She was just another face in the crowd, and he'd had more important things on his mind at the time…like working out the topic of his next book, or thinking up ways to hurt his publicist for this latest stunt.

"_I'm a writer, not an underwear model, you moron! My face does _not _need to be on a billboard!"_

"…_underwear model? You do realize that you're fully clothed on that poster, right? And only shown from the waist up?"_

Malachite had lost that argument, of course, just as he lost most of his arguments with Zoicite. The man had an uncanny ability to talk others into doing what he wanted them to do, and his best-friend-since-childhood was certainly not an exception. To the contrary—manipulating Malachite had become Zoi's favorite hobby. He had it down to an art form, really.

He also had those photos from their college days, and the man wasn't above threatening blackmail if he thought Mal was going to be stubborn…

Malachite sighed, glanced again at the thrice-cursed billboard. He'd been standing across the street for nearly twenty minutes, staring up at it with absolute loathing, wondering how he could get rid of it without Zoicite noticing and giving him an earful.

It didn't help that he wasn't the only one staring.

There'd been women—lots of them. Housewives with infants or shopping bags, business women in professional suits with far-from-professional stars in their eyes. Women with short hair and women with long hair, young women, old women, in-between women. All of them stopping for a few seconds or a few minutes to stare with longing at the handsome man on the billboard.

He didn't even want to think about the schoolgirls. They traveled in packs and obviously had nothing better to do than make eyes at him and whisper excitedly to each other from behind their hands or their binders. He'd sent several prayers of gratitude towards the heavens, thanking whatever might be out there for the fact that none of them had noticed the real Malachite standing just a few feet behind them.

That would have been…bad.

Armageddon bad.

There'd even been two men, neither of whom had so much as glanced at the women surrounding them. They'd been drooling more than the teenagers.

He'd rather take on the schoolgirls.

And then _she _came.

He hadn't noticed when she'd arrived; that last pack of schoolgirls had almost caught him, and he'd ducked behind a tree to hide. He'd stayed there for a moment, a grown man openly terrified of teenage girls, waiting until he couldn't hear the giggles anymore. When he was certain they'd gone, he finally pulled away from the tree and turned to walk home. _Enough of this. I could be hunting Zoi down right now...and I really, _really _want to hunt Zoi down. _

She was standing directly beneath the billboard, frozen in place, head tilted up. He watched her for a second or two, wondering why her face was so pale, wondering if he'd mistaken what he'd seen in her eyes. He wasn't the most perceptive man, at least not when it came to the emotions of others, but he couldn't understand why her eyes had seemed wide with something more akin to shock than the blind adoration he'd seen in the rest of the women. What was so shocking about a billboard?

Her reaction had been…unusual, but he might still have dismissed her, had she not chosen that moment to begin swearing.

_That _caught his attention. He'd made plenty of women angry in his time, but rarely a complete stranger, and never like this. Was there something _wrong _with this woman, that she could say those things about a man he didn't think she'd met?

Then again, maybe she wasn't such a stranger, after all. It slowly occurred to him that her face seemed…familiar, somehow. Well known, almost. The girl was stunningly beautiful, so much so that she ought to have taken his breath away, but he found that he was reacting to her as though he'd seen her face a thousand times before. _Did_ he know her? He'd met so many women, over the years since he'd started writing professionally, and perhaps she'd been one of them. She must have been, because he didn't think his reaction was normal if they'd never met.

She was still swearing. He cocked his head to one side, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips as he listened. _Not a lady, this one. She swears like a sailor. _And, like any well-traveled sailor, she wasn't sticking to one language, either. Her words were a mixture of Japanese, English, and at least one other tongue that he couldn't quite place. He didn't understand even half of what she was saying, though from her tone of voice and the way she was clenching her fingers, it didn't take a genius to realize that it probably wasn't flattering.

And yet, in spite of that, he was still smiling—and this from a man who rarely did. Giggling school girl she was not, and rather than being offended, he found himself wondering only what he'd done to get such a strong reaction from her. He stepped forward, crossed the street almost without conscious thought, came to her side.

She didn't seem to notice him, at first, though at least now he could be certain that it _was_ the billboard she was glaring at, and not something else. Her eyes were locked on his "face," her brows drawn together. Her face was still pale with shock, but the shock was wearing thin under what he thought was anger.

"Excuse me—"

Her head jerked around so quickly that he wondered if she'd given herself whiplash, and the swearing abruptly stopped as her eyes met his. Hers seemed to grow until they were half the size of her face, and though he hadn't thought it possible, she'd become paler still. Her mouth had fallen slightly open, and while it ought to have been unattractive, he recognized that nothing could make this girl-woman less than beautiful.

He gave another half-smile. "I didn't mean to startle you," he began, voice soft and amused, "but from the way you're reacting to that billboard, I'd have to say you know me."

She didn't smile back. She only stared at him, her entire body stiff. He would have sworn that she wasn't breathing, and his amusement faded as he watched two spots of color come out on her cheeks. "Are you all right?"

Silence followed his words. He opened his mouth to repeat the question, but something in her face made it stick in his throat. His eyes remained locked on hers, the question he hadn't asked heavy in his gaze. Then…

"Oh, by the gods," she hissed out, "why can't you people ever _stay _dead?"

_What?_

He didn't respond—how could he respond?—but she made her escape while he was still gaping at her. She spun, turning and practically _running_ in the other direction before he could so much as blink. She was out of sight almost immediately, leaving a very startled and confused man in her wake.

A long moment passed before Malachite could close his mouth, and by the time he'd gotten control of himself and could think like a rational human being again, the fangirls had returned. A group of female adolescents were headed his way, and from the increase in whispers and high-pitched giggles, they'd already seen him.

He simply ran.

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Raye wasn't happy.

They could all see it—it was there, in the fury in her mulberry gaze, the tension in her posture. They'd been friends with her for too long _not _to know exactly how the dark-haired priestess was feeling at any given moment, and they could certainly tell when she was angry.

Then again, it was even less hard than usual to see the anger today, at least given the fact that Raye had just snapped yet another pencil in half.

The wood splintered in her hands, one of the pieces biting into the skin of her palm and drawing blood. She glared down at it, then unceremoniously tossed the pieces to the side. The blonde sitting next to her gave a protesting squeal as they struck her arm, though Raye didn't seem to notice. "Where _is _she?" the priestess bit out, fierce eyes impatiently scanning the room for something to wipe away the blood. "Doesn't it occur to her that some of us have _lives _and don't want to spend all day waiting around for her?" She snorted. "Some study session this is turning out to be."

The blonde—no longer sitting next to her—rolled her eyes and handed her a tissue. "Lay off, Raye," she snapped back. "She's not that late, and it's not that big a deal anyway." Her expression turned crafty, her voice suddenly becoming sly as only a sister's or a best friend's can be. "Why are you being so impatient, anyhow? It's not as though you have some hot date to rush out for, right?"

A tic was developing over one of Raye's eyes, but she only crossed her arms over her chest. "_Serena_…"

Her tone was far from friendly, though Serena didn't seem to care. She simply smiled--albeit a little mischievously--and turned back to the book she was supposed to be studying from, as immune as ever to Raye's perpetual grouchiness.

Amy started hiding the remaining pencils.

Silence reigned for a little while, broken only by Raye's grunts of irritation as her search for a new pencil proved fruitless. She glared at Amy for a moment or two, but since their resident genius was studiously ignoring her, she sighed and gave up. She was probably too mad to concentrate anyway. _Some leader Mina is! She can't even show up for a study session on time. Probably stopped to ogle some stupid guy she met on the street._

Moments passed, and the tic over her eye grew. The other girls were carefully edging away from her now, trying not to be too obvious as they moved their possessions out of Raye's reach. The priestess wasn't above throwing things if she became furious enough, and they didn't want those things to be theirs.

"_Where is she?" _

Raye's furious question might have gone unanswered—none of the senshi were stupid, after all—had the door to Raye's bedroom not flown open almost the instant the question left Raye's lips. The prodigal leader herself fell through, stumbled on the threshold and collapsed next to Raye in a tangle of blonde hair and graceful limbs. She was panting heavily, though her face was pale beneath the flush of exercise. She didn't try to stand.

Raye pounced. "Where have you been?" she demanded, reaching down to shake her friend. She gripped the girl's shoulders with near bruising force, stopping only as she noticed the expression on Mina's face.

Bewilderment. Anger. Fear. Nothing that should have been there, nothing they usually associated with the ever-cheerful and ever-unflappable Mina.

Raye's fury instantly melted away. "What's wrong?"

Mina didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to keep her lips sealed and her head bowed. She was still breathing heavily, and that, too, was a cause for alarm. Mina simply didn't _get _tired, no matter how much she exerted herself. Why was she breathing so hard?

Serena had stepped forward, by then, coming to kneel beside her cousin-from-another-life. "Mina," she began softly, voice compassionate and completely free of the light-hearted immaturity of before, "what happened?"

The concern in Serena's voice seemed to bring Mina back to herself. Her breathing slowed, and after another moment or so, she finally lifted her head. She looked up into Serena's blue eyes, her own completely shuttered as she uttered the last words any of them would have expected.

"He's back," Mina answered, voice whisper thin and twice as faint. "Malachite is back."

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January 19, 2007

Venus Smurf's Quote for the Day!

Found this one on It's hilarious…though maybe only because I'm a Californian.

"Directions to Los Angeles 

**Getting there by road**: Don't. It's about as fatal as drinking arsenic.

**Getting there by plane**: The air below you, should you have been unfortunate enough to have looked down, is brown, hazy, only mildly translucent, and moving. Although, due to it's seriously fun geology, California moves alot, it-let's face it- doesn't actually move that much. (My saying that has just lost us our claim to tourism.) Don't look at the mountains, up against which the wind shoves all of Los Angeles's smog. It is actually layered. (Not the rock, the air.) It highly resembles coffee. Curdled coffee. Two year-old curdled coffee. Let me put it this way: You will finally understand, from personal experience, what those little bags are for. (And you will need to use about three of them.) Upon landing, you will probobly find your way into (L.A.'s largest airport (and one of the largest in the free world (if, under Bush, you can call America free))) LAX. There's a reason it's called this, just... don't ask. Not only that, but LAX is right next to Inglewood.

The best way to get to L.A. is just not to get there at all. You'll be better off that way. Trust me."

Hey, if y'all have any good quotes (funny, inspiring, whatever), send 'em to me and I'll include 'em in future chapters. This amuses me, and I think I'll keep doing it.


	2. Die, Malachite, Die!

**A.N.**: I'm overwhelmed by the compliments I received after the last chapter. Y'all are amazing! I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Well, this isn't going to be the most exciting of chapters, but I promise that more action will be coming in the future.

I do need a beta for this fic, though. Anybody stupid enough to volunteer? Or, I should ask, are any of my other long-suffering betas willing to take on more?

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**Chapter Two: Die, Malachite, Die!**

"_He's back," Mina told them, voice whisper thin and twice as faint. "Malachite is back."_

The last hour had been pure chaos. Once the shock had eased enough for the senshi to start thinking coherently again, they'd done what they always did when faced with a problem of this magnitude: they'd started arguing.

Lita and Raye had immediately voted to hunt down the Malachite-look-alike, unleash their combined might on him before he even knew they were coming, and essentially blow him to Kingdom Come. They'd rounded on Amy, insisting that she use her senshi's computer to locate their resurrected villain, and then almost blown _Amy _to Kingdom Come when she'd refused.

"We don't know enough!" Amy had cried out as she dodged the strikes of the two most violent senshi. "What are his plans? Who will he be attacking next? What if he's not working alone?" She'd stopped running long enough to glare at them for missing what was so obvious to her. "Don't you want to know what he's doing back, or how he's even alive? You can go off and kill him if you like, but how do we know he won't just come back?"

Neither Lita nor Raye had bothered to answer that. As far as they were concerned, the only good Malachite was a _dead _Malachite. They didn't really care if he'd suddenly discovered or been given the ability to bring himself back from the dead—if he came back after they'd killed him this time, they'd just kill him again.

And again, and again, and again, if that's what it took. Everybody needed a hobby, and they were fine with making kill-the-general theirs.

Serena had been arguing just as loudly as the others at first, siding against Raye out of habit alone. Still, about the time that Raye had started physically attacking the tiny genius, she'd finally decided to actually think on the matter. She watched in silence as Amy nimbly dodged her fellow warriors, her brow slowly wrinkling in thought. "Guys," she finally muttered, her voice so unhappy that the others finally stopped chasing Amy, "what if he's not evil?"

_That _certainly caught their attention, though it wasn't something that had occurred to them until now. _Not _evil? Difficult concept. In their eyes, if a man had spent a few centuries working for a psychotic witch bent on taking over the world, he was automatically proclaimed evil for the rest of eternity. And if he was evil, he should be killed as soon—or as painfully, if they were in that kind of mood at the time—as possible. Why complicate the matter by trying to prove him otherwise?

The senshi liked to keep things simple…or maybe they just liked taking their anger out on the bad guys, and they were loathe to classify Malachite as anything else if it meant they couldn't beat on him. Whichever it might be, Malachite was going to stay evil in their minds, and that was all there was to it.

And yet, Serena was still their princess. They could at least _consider _her idea, couldn't they? Didn't they respect her at least enough for that?

Raye didn't. "Only you," she muttered, rolling her eyes at her blonde friend, "would try to find some good in a schmuck like Malachite." She waved a dismissive hand in Serena's direction. "I still say we go with the 'Die, Malachite, die!' plan. It's easier."

Lita nodded in agreement, though her eyes had sharpened a little as she considered this new idea. She certainly gave it more thought than Raye had, even if that wasn't saying much. After only a second or two, she shook her head. "This is _Malachite_ we're talking about," she finally said. "Of _course _he's evil."

Serena still looked thoughtful, which was scary enough in itself. "Right," she muttered, sounding completely unsure. "But what if he isn't?"

Raye snorted. "All right," she snapped, "if you're so bent on this, we'll give you a chance to prove your theory. What makes you think Malachite could possibly be good, especially after all he's done?"

Serena shrugged, though she still looked unhappy. "Anybody can change, Raye," she answered quietly, "no matter how bad they seem. Look at Nephrite, or Diamond. They were good in the end."

"Doesn't count," Raye instantly retorted. "Both of them changed for a girl. For love. Malachite will never have that kind of motivation, because no girl could ever love him."

"Zoicite did," Serena commented absently.

They stared at her.

"You say that like it should count in his favor," Lita muttered incredulously. "You've _met _Zoicite; you should know better." She paused, considered. "Actually," she added, "I think that counts as _two _points against him, just _because_ it was Zoicite. That girl was such a b—" She caught herself, cut off the word. She'd made a New Year's resolution to stop swearing, and with the _next _New Year's coming up in just a matter of months, she knew she probably ought to get started on that.

Amy was still thinking, her own eyes shadowed in thought. "No," she finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. "Serena may have a point. Not about Zoicite," she hastened to add, "but about Malachite not necessarily being evil." She pursed her lips, tried to find the right words. "We know that the generals were once on Darien—Endymion's—side, right? They were his advisors, his friends. They must have been good at some point, or Darien wouldn't have put so much trust in them."

"Or maybe they were just pretending," Lita broke in. "You know—double agents or whatever. Maybe they just tricked Darien into thinking they were good."

Serena turned to glare at the taller senshi. "Darien's not an idiot," she broke in hotly. "He'd have known if they were lying to him."

Lita's turn to roll her eyes. "Right," she muttered. "Silly me. We all know Darien is perfect."

Serena actually smiled. "Yes," she smugly shot back, "he is."

Group eye roll, at that.

Amy gave a discreet cough, bringing their attention back to more important things. "Whether or not Darien is perfect," she suddenly tossed out, "we all know that he's a good man." She fell silent, losing herself in her own thoughts.

They looked at her, waiting.

She caught their looks, blushed and started again. "My point is, Darien once served Beryl, too, didn't he? He's good as they come, but he still fought against us."

Serena was looking indignant again. "That wasn't his fault. He was brainwashed!"

Amy nodded. "Exactly. Beryl brainwashed him. And if she brainwashed _him_, couldn't she have brainwashed his generals?"

Raye was frowning. "Darien never really tried to hurt us," she pointed out. "He even tried to help us a couple of times. He _fought _the brainwashing. The generals…didn't." She paused, scowled. "Jedeite tried to run us over with a plane, remember?"

That had been years ago, she'd faced infinitely worse, but she was _still _mad about the plane. She'd never bothered to give a reason for it, and the others had never asked. Raye held grudges, and they'd learned to leave it at that.

Amy wasn't about to give up. "Yes, but how long was Darien under her control? A few weeks?"

They nodded, though it had seemed so much longer.

"And how long did she have the generals? Centuries?" She cocked an eyebrow at them, her expression suddenly flinty. "Don't you think the job Beryl did on the generals was a little more thorough than the one she'd done on Darien? Of _course _they couldn't fight it like Darien did!"

Lita looked confused. "So, what you're saying is that you _don't _want to kill him? Just on the off chance that he's not such a bad guy?"

Amy nodded, though she'd become hesitant once again. "I just want to know more about him," she answered softly. "Is that so much to ask?"

"_Yes_." Raye's voice had become harsh. Whatever she'd thought of Amy's argument, she obviously wasn't buying it. "How will you feel if he starts killing people while we're trying to figure him out? What will you do then?"

Amy opened her mouth to answer, sighed and instead said nothing.

And, from across the room, providing the answer Amy couldn't, Mina spoke for the first time since all of this had started. "We'll deal with it," their blonde leader said quietly. "It's a risk, but we can't stay what we are and not take it."

They'd all turned to stare at Mina, only now remembering that she was even with them. She hadn't moved from the place where she'd fallen an hour ago, had simply tucked her legs under her slight body and crossed her arms over her chest, never said a word the entire time they'd been arguing. She'd been so silent and so still that they'd completely forgotten her, and that stunned them, a little. Mina had never made her position as leader too obvious, but it wasn't like her to pull herself into the background, either.

And it certainly wasn't like her to hold back. She would usually have been the first to attack…what had changed?

Mina looked them each in the eye, her own impassive. If she caught their surprise, she didn't react to it. "My vote is with Amy."

Mina's face didn't change as her entire team gaped at her, but she didn't seem as uncomfortable with their stares as Amy had. "Look," she started, voice quiet but still full of authority, "I want to kill him as much as you do—maybe even more—but we can't. What if Amy's right, and he was just brainwashed? Now that Beryl is gone for good, he might be free of that." She shook her head, though the movement seemed almost regretful. "We don't kill innocents."

Lita didn't look convinced. "What do you want us to do, then, Mina?"

The blonde shrugged. "We follow him, watch him, wait to see what he does. If he's evil, we'll know soon enough."

Raye was frowning, though for once she couldn't fault Mina's logic. "And if we find that he is? What then?"

Mina's lips twisted in a smile both very sudden and very cold. "Then we hunt him down and execute him," she answered easily. "Of course."

And that settled that.

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They'd decided to work in shifts. Mina hadn't wanted to be first, as she'd already had a memorable enough encounter with the man, and she didn't want to risk further exposure. "If he's innocent," she'd sensibly pointed out, "he'll have forgotten me in a few days, and then I can take my turn watching him. If he's evil…well, _he'll_ be looking for _me_, and he'll be on his guard. Better wait."

Raye had volunteered to go first, her offer quickly followed by Lita's, but Mina had simply rolled her eyes and ordered Amy to take the first shift. The blonde had ignored Raye's protests, tiredly reminded the priestess that Amy was the only one who could be trusted to just _watch _Malachite rather than immediately try to kill him.

Raye hadn't been pleased. "Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

It hadn't taken Amy long to find Malachite, and that was a surprise in itself. Mina had remembered his mortal name from the billboard, but they still hadn't expected to find much on him. The man wasn't human, after all, wasn't even from this century, and yet Amy was able to dig up more information on him than she could on any of the senshi. Within minutes, she had everything from his work place and home address to his social security number. She'd even found the name of his seventh grade teacher, and how could a man who'd grown to adulthood over a thousand years before even _have _a seventh grade teacher?

To all appearances, he seemed a normal enough man—they'd found a birth record, his college transcripts, a list of the bestsellers he'd written over the past few years, even a few fangirl-created websites. He was a little eccentric, by all reports—he stayed out of the public eye and absolutely refused to take advantage of his near-celebrity status—but that was all. He was a bit of a recluse, but as far as fronts went, his seemed decent enough.

Raye was the first to point out that none of that meant anything at all, and even Serena had to agree with her on that one. Professor Tomoe and Maxfield Stanton had been recluses, too, and they'd caused more than their share of problems.

Amy, of course, had been careful to keep the real details—addresses and such—from everyone but Mina. Raye and Lita were too bloodthirsty to be trusted with it just yet, and while Serena had been the first to speak in Malachite's favor, she was utterly incapable of keeping secrets. Only Mina was deemed worthy of knowing, though the blue-haired genius hadn't entirely trusted Mina, either. The blonde had been acting oddly ever since all of this had started; she'd been too calm, too emotionless, and it just wasn't like her to be this quiet. Still, Mina was the leader, and since she'd also voted to delay Malachite's execution, Amy hadn't felt that she should keep anything from her.

They'd arranged to put him under twenty-four hour surveillance, or as close to it as they could get. They still had classes to attend and shifts to work, after all, and until Lita or Raye could be trusted, they could only do so much. Artemis and Luna would take the longest shifts—they doubted that Malachite would notice a stray cat or two—and Serena had persuaded the Outer Senshi to pitch in when they could. It was the best they could do.

"I still liked the 'Die, Malachite' plan better," Raye muttered as the meeting finally ended and the others began dragging themselves back to their own homes. "It really would have been easier."

They were all too tired to offer a reply, and none of them noticed Mina's slight nod of agreement or the shadow that passed over her face as they left.

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**Venus Smurf's Jokes of the Day:**

**Courtesy of Randa-Chan**, who, I should mention, lives in Australia and deals with some major water restrictions. She saw this on a T-shirt:

"Save Water. Drink Beer."

**Courtesy of Isis Aurora Tomoe: **

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe." (Albert Einstein)


	3. 25 Ways to Improve Your Sex Life

**A.N.** Okay, several of you wanted to know if:

A.) Zoicite is a girl

B.) Zoicite is going to _stay_ a girl (assuming he is one now, of course)

C.) Zoicite is or was ever in love with Malachite (and vice versa)

D.) Zoicite and Amy are going to hook up

In answer: No (though he was when he fought with Beryl), no again, many times over no (ew), and abso-freakin'-lutely! I love Amy/Zoi pairings, but while I'll read yuri pairings, I don't write them. Ergo, Zoi has to be male. Also, Mal referred to Zoi as 'he' in the first chapter.

No worries. It'll all make sense eventually.

Maybe.

And, yes, I realize that this chapter is total fluff. Don't bother flaming me for it.

Review and I'll send you a t-shirt! (Only not really.)

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**Many thanks to my beta, Destiny's Darkness! She's awesome, just so y'all know.**

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CHAPTER THREE: 25 Ways to Improve Your Sex Life 

Death by fire. Electrocution. Cement shoes and a long walk off a very short pier.

They'd threatened it all, and if she continued refusing to tell them what they wanted to know, she had little doubt that they'd do something truly horrible to her. She didn't think they'd really try to kill her—she was too valuable to them—but they were creative, and they were violent. They'd come up with something that'd probably be worse than death.

Or at least something embarrassing enough that she'd _want _to die.

Every once in a while, she realized just how terrifying her friends could be.

Amy wasn't even ashamed to admit that she _was _scared of them. Any sane person would have been, and that went double for someone who knew just what Raye and Lita, in particular, were capable of doing. She'd seen them in action, after all, and if weren't for the fact that Mina had forbidden them from hurting anyone just yet, Amy would never have stood a chance against them.

Not that they hadn't gone after her in spite of Mina's orders. They'd chased her, tried to bully her, tried to blackmail her…and, when they'd realized that she'd been too smart to leave anything they could blackmail her _with_, they'd started in with the death threats.

Even Haruka had gotten in on it. The tall blonde woman had never even met Malachite—at least not in this life, and perhaps not even in the last one—but she'd been fully supportive of Raye's DMD (Die, Malachite, Die!) plan. Nobody was really surprised by this, of course; Haruka had always been a fan of any kind of violence, but once again, only Mina and Michelle's combined intervention had saved Amy and the man she was trying to protect.

If Malachite turned out to be evil, Amy was _so _taking him out herself. No man, no matter how innocent, was worth this, because those three were _scary_.

Cujo scary.

Maybe even Teletubbies scary.

Well, probably not _that _scary, but close to it. Nothing could compare to the Teletubbies, after all.

Then again, maybe she _should _have just given in, told the Violent Trio exactly where they could find the Malachite-look-alike. Malachite's mutilated corpse would show up on the six o'clock news the next day, but at least they'd leave _her _alone. The problem would be dealt with, the question of Malachite's innocence would be a moot one…and, most importantly of all, Amy wouldn't have to cope with this mind-numbing boredom.

Because bored she was. She had been stuck here, waiting for Malachite to emerge from his publisher's office building, for several hours now, and it didn't look like relief would be coming any time soon. Haruka had been scheduled to come take Amy's place over an hour ago, but Mina had taken one look at the taller blonde's face and thought better of sending her. The racer obviously wasn't any more trustworthy than Mars or Jupiter, which left the rest of them to pick up the slack.

When Mina had called to tell her that Haruka wouldn't be coming, Amy had only sighed and volunteered to take another shift. Artemis and Luna would be watching him that night—a pair of cats would be less obvious than a person lurking outside someone's house—and both Michelle and Mina had classes to attend that afternoon. Serena still couldn't be trusted, Setsuna had, once again, completely disappeared, and since Darien had to work, that left only Amy herself. Mina had offered to take over, of course—the blonde always jumped at any excuse to ditch class—but Amy had reluctantly turned her down. They both knew Mina wanted to wait a little longer before she risked another encounter with Malachite, and she ditched too often as it was.

So she was trapped, forced to loiter at the café across from the building, ordering drink after drink as she tried to blend in.

Hard to do, when she'd already spent so many hours staring at the entrance to that building. The waiters were starting to give her funny looks.

If only she could _read_…

Mina had forbidden that, as well.

"_Ames, we all know you're smarter than the rest of us combined, but when you read…we lose you completely. Malachite could come out and start tap-dancing naked in front of you, and you wouldn't notice."_

_Amy looked vaguely offended. "I'm not _that _bad."_

_Mina only snorted, though not even that could take away from the blonde's inherent elegance. "Yes. Yes, you are." Her full lips curved in a mischievous smile, and the open affection in her laughter took the sting from the words. "Books are to you what food is to Serena—you zone out and start drooling whenever you're near them." _

"_I don't _drool." _Amy couldn't help blushing, but then she sighed and gave in. "I can't just sit there without anything to do. It'll look odd."_

_Mina grinned and pulled a rolled-up magazine from the back pocket of her jeans. "I already thought of that," she said, pressing the magazine into Amy's hands._

_The senshi of ice glanced down at the cover, her embarrassment fading as she realized what she was holding. "Well," she muttered lightly, "I certainly won't read _this_."_

_Mina was laughing again. "I know," she grinned. "That's why it's perfect. You won't zone out on me, but if you _do_ end up reading it, at least you'll learn something."_

_The blonde pointed at the magazine's cover, and Amy's blush came back, stronger than ever. "25 Ways to Improve Your Sex Life," she read, eyes widening. She tore her gaze away, glared up at her leader. "Mina!"_

_Mina only continued grinning. _

She'd brought the magazine with her—mostly to shut Mina up, not because she ever intended to read it—but she hadn't looked at it once since she'd arrived. She'd simply tossed it onto the table, tried her best not to blush whenever she thought of Mina's less-than-subtle innuendos.

As if she even _had _a sex life…

And Greg didn't count, because they weren't…they hadn't…

She was blushing again.

Stupid Mina.

She leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to take another sip of the drink she hadn't wanted. She'd ordered something fruity this time, just for variety, and it was leaving a slightly sticky taste in her mouth. _Stupid Mina_, she thought again.

Amy sighed and checked her watch. _Four hours. I've been sitting here for _four_ hours. What in the name of all that is holy is he _doing _up there? _No meeting could last this long, and she wondered if Malachite simply had an office in this building. She'd always thought most writers worked from home, but maybe this one didn't. She'd have to check the fangirl websites; they usually had all sorts of similarly useless information on them, and it'd help to know a little more of Malachite's schedule.

The fruity drink was all but gone now, and as it'd made her feel slightly nauseous, she lifted a small hand and beckoned the waiter over. He came, looking slightly annoyed that she _still _wasn't leaving, and waited for her next order. "Coffee, please," she muttered, slightly embarrassed.

He nodded and left.

_Gods, I'm so bored. _

Amy couldn't help making a face as the waiter returned with her coffee. She took a cautious sip, then another, relieved when the nausea seemed to fade. She set the mug down next to the magazine, then began drumming her fingers against the table top in an attempt to keep herself awake.

_Bored, bored, bored…_

She almost reached for her drink again, just to give herself something to do, but her eyes landed instead on the magazine, and she paused. _Could I? Am I that desperate? _

She must be, because her hand reached for the magazine before her brain had given permission. She pulled it to herself, fingers twitching slightly as she stared at the cover.

_You know Mina will find out if you read this, _a little voice whispered in her mind.

She frowned at it. _No, she won't. How could she know? She's psychotic, not psychic. _

_Mina has strange powers. You should know that by now. _

_Her class doesn't end for another hour. She'll never even see me. And why would I really care if she did?_

_Because she'll tease you. _

_She teases me anyway._

_True, but this will only make her worse. The innuendos will never end._

Amy winced. Mina _did _have a sixth sense for all things embarrassing, and while it was just some stupid magazine, the blonde would turn it into more.

_Besides, you're supposed to be watching for Malachite, anyway. How can you do that if you're occupied with that thing?_

Amy sighed, fully aware that she was literally arguing with herself. It was probably a side affect of spending so much time with Mina and Serena—they were always talking to themselves. At least this argument was only in her head. _Mina gave me permission, didn't she? I'm just not allowed to read a real book. A magazine is hardly going to entrance me to the point where I wouldn't notice—how did she put it?—Malachite's naked tap-dancing. _

Now _there _was a reason to shudder. Bad, _bad _image…

Her little voice wouldn't leave the matter alone. _She was teasing you then, too; she didn't mean it. _

_I don't care. I've been sitting here for _hours _with nothing to do, and I'm. So. Bored. _

That seemed to shut the little voice up, though Amy still refused to acknowledge that she'd heard it at all. Nor did she care that Mina _would _tease her, or that the blonde would tell everyone else, as well. She simply couldn't take any more, even if she knew just _looking_ at the magazine was probably making her I.Q. drop.

She braced herself, eyebrows drawing together in determination as she flicked the cover aside and began scanning the Table of Contents for anything even remotely redeemable. _Which eyeliner is best for you? What's your color? Celebrity breakups—photos inside! _

It got worse from there, but Amy gritted her teeth and read on.

She was halfway through the magazine—she'd been just _shocked_ to learn that her color was _blue_, and that liquid eyeliners weren't for her—and reaching for the remains of her coffee when a shadow fell over her. She looked up, blinking rather stupidly into what little light hadn't been blocked. Her eyes had taken on a rather glazed look, but they cleared as she took in the grinning face of her closest friend.

_Figures. I should have listened to the voices in my head. _She hastily shoved the magazine aside, knowing it was too late to save herself.

Mina was grinning like the maniac they all knew she was, and her blue eyes were bright with laughter as Amy folded her hands in her lap and tried to pretend she hadn't just been reading that magazine. "Skipped class again, did you?"

If the blonde had heard the question, she obviously wasn't going to answer. "So," Mina slowly began, trying to choke the words out around her laughter, "are you ready to improve your sex life?"

The flush on Amy's cheeks could have been either from anger or embarrassment, but Mina simply continued laughing.

Amy stared at her friend, wondering which word would best describe the sound coming out of Mina's mouth. _Hysterical? Maniacal? _

The little voice wondered the same thing. _Do we have to pick just one?_

The waiters were _really _staring now.

Amy grunted, reached out and tugged on Mina's sleeve. The blonde obediently threw herself into the chair beside the tiny genius, and while her laughter hadn't stopped, she no longer sounded quite so psychotic. "I knew you wouldn't be able to hold out." She shook her head, still chuckling, and then reached into her bag and pulled out a thin book.

Amy's eyes lit up.

Mina's chuckle became another full-out cackle. "What did I say about the drooling?"

Amy's grin turned to a scowl, though it was a relatively good-natured one. She did _not _drool. She _didn't._

Stupid Mina.

The blonde tossed the book across the table, grinning as Amy deftly caught it and pulled it to her chest. "For the walk home," Mina teased as she draped her arm over the back of her chair. "You left it at my house last week, anyway. It'd ruin my reputation if anyone else saw it."

Amy didn't say anything, but the look of pure gratitude in her eyes was enough to set Mina off again.

The waiter chose that moment to approach their table. "Can I get you anything more, miss?"

The words were for Amy, but the man only had eyes for Mina. The blonde was still laughing, her beautiful face alight with mischief, her hair lit by the sunlight streaming over the café…and it was obvious that the waiter was completely entranced by her.

Amy only shook her head. Mina had that affect on most people, be they male or female, and the waiter's reaction was nothing new. "No, thank you," she said, though she'd known the man didn't really care if she wanted to order anything more or not. He'd spent the last hour or two glaring at her, probably wishing she'd leave and clear the table for other customers and the tips they'd bring. Needless to say, she wasn't buying his sudden friendliness.

Amy glanced at Mina. The blonde was lightly flirting with the waiter, though it was obvious to Amy that her heart wasn't in it. Amy's leader kept glancing over her shoulder to the building Malachite had entered, her eyes hardening a little more each time. After a moment more, she shooed the disappointed man away and turned back to Amy. "I'm assuming nothing happened."

Amy shook her head, this time in denial. "No. I would have called you." She leaned back in her chair, rolled her eyes. "He's been in there for hours," she added. "Either he's got an office and works there, or his only friends are his publishers."

Mina started to give a dismissive shrug, then paused. "Or," she suddenly muttered, "he _is _evil and this is his base."

"Can't be," Amy immediately retorted. "I already checked out his publishers. They're legit."

Mina's eyes were sharp now, the laughter gone. She was in full leader-mode, now. "How can you know?"

"They've been around too long," Amy told her friend. "The company started over a decade before Beryl came around, and since nothing changed for them when Beryl died, I don't think they were involved with her. Besides, according to their records—" Mina's brow shot up at this, because they both knew Amy'd hacked into the company's computers to get those records, "—Beryl had been dead for years before Malachite started working for them."

Mina shook her head. "You're probably right, but we really can't make any assumptions," she quietly pointed out. "Maybe the company wasn't involved with Beryl herself, but we don't know that _Malachite's_ not in control of it. This could still be a base for evil." Her face tightened. "_His _base."

Amy's eyes widened at the sudden vehemence in Mina's words, but the blonde wasn't finished. "Then again," she was adding, "we can only hope that we're _just_ dealing with Malachite. It'd really suck if Beryl was alive and causing trouble again."

Amy paled. She hadn't even considered the possibility that Beryl might have been reincarnated along with her general, though it should have been obvious. After all, if Malachite could do it, why not his mistress?

Mina was still frowning, but as she caught the startled fear in Amy's eyes, she shrugged and cleared her expression. "Don't worry about it, Ames," she told her friend. "We're a lot stronger than we were when Beryl was around, so even if she _is _still alive, I'm sure we can take her. In any case, there's not much point in worrying about it now."

The blonde sighed, reached out to grab Amy's mug. She drained it in one swallow, grimaced as she realized the liquid had completely cooled. "That's just vile," she muttered, pushing herself to her feet.

Amy stood with her, though she didn't bother to pick up the magazine. "What now? Are you going to take over?"

Mina nodded. "Yeah." She slung her bag back over her shoulder, tossed a few bills down in payment for the empty drinks littered across the table. "I'm just not going to stay here. It'd be a little obvious if one of us was always sitting at this table. I think I'll go skulk in the bushes for a bit instead." She offered her friend a lopsided grin. "Go home, Ames. Get some sleep…or read, or whatever it is you want to do. I've got this."

Amy nodded. "I thought you didn't want him to see you."

The blonde shrugged yet again. "I don't, but it can't be helped. Nobody else is free to take a shift, and you've been here too long already."

"Are you sure?" There was something in Mina's face that Amy didn't like, though the blonde seemed as cheerful as ever.

"Yeah. It'll be fine."

Mina's smile seemed sincere enough, and Amy _was_ incredibly tired of Malachite and anything to do with him. She was more than ready to go home.

That, and she really, _really _wanted to start reading again. She hadn't gone this long in…well, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd gone so long without a book. It almost _hurt_, and if she waited much longer, she'd probably start experiencing withdrawal.

Mina was grinning again, perhaps knowing exactly what her blue-haired friend was thinking. Amy stuck her tongue out in response, spun on one heel and began to walk away. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she called over her shoulder.

She turned around before she could see Mina's face change or the laughter die in her eyes, but not before…

Not before she collided with the man standing directly in her path. Her small body rebounded off a chest that felt more like a brick wall than part of a human being, and she would have fallen to the ground if Mina hadn't leaped forward to support her.

Amy realized that something was desperately wrong when Mina didn't say anything. Her blonde friend wasn't asking if she was all right, wasn't trying to apologize for her or, gods forbid, even trying to _flirt _with Mr. Chest.

And if Mina wasn't flirting, something was very, very wrong.

Amy righted herself, glanced at Mina's face before she bothered to see who she'd collided with.

She almost wished she hadn't. Mina's expression was hard, her eyes blazing in an overly pale face. The blonde's body was rigid behind Amy's, and the young genius thought she could even hear Mina's teeth grinding together.

"Are you all right, miss?"

Amy winced. She hadn't heard Malachite's voice in centuries, but while his presence would have explained Mina's reaction, she already knew this wasn't Malachite.

The voice was still _way _too familiar, and definitely not in a good way. _Because if it's not Malachite, it has to be…_

She forced herself to look up.

Her breath immediately caught, gathering painfully in her chest. _Nope. Not Malachite. _

She understood why Mina had looked so angry.

_Zoicite…_

Only…_not _Zoicite, or at least not the one they'd once fought. _That _Zoicite had been a giggling, obnoxious woman who'd clung to Malachite like a leech. She'd been…

Well, a _woman_, for one thing, and this Zoicite…wasn't.

_Huh. Didn't see that one coming. _

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**Venus Smurf's Thoughts for the Day:**

**Courtesy of JadesRose: **

"Imagination is more important than knowledge." Albert Einstein

(VS: Which is good, because I have plenty of imagination and very little knowledge!)

"People start their lives at last when they are able to live for something other than themselves." Albert Einstein

**Courtesy of pudadingding: **

Save trees, eat a beaver.

(VS: Hahaha!)

**Courtesy of JenniferJ: **

Another slogan inspired by the drought: "Save water, share a shower."

**Courtesy of A. Lee:**

A professor was discussing and comparing languages in class. "In English," he explained, "using a double negatively grammatically implies a positive. If you're not not doing something, you are doing it. In French, however, two negatives are often required to affirm the negative." He went on in this style, detailing the differences in a number of different languages.

"In no language, however," he said in the manner of one about to deliver the Final Enlightening Truth he had been working up to, "does a double positive imply a negative!"

From the back of the room, someone said ...

"Yeah, right."

**Courtesy of…well, me: **

I have six locks on my door all in a row. When I go out, I only lock every other one. I figure that no matter how long somebody stands there picking the locks, they are always locking three.


	4. Blonde and Buxom

**A.N.: **Last chapter, we addressed the Zoicite-as-a-girl issue. This time, it's the "Do you realize that you're using both Japanese and American versions of the Outers' names, you idiot?" thing.

I know that I do this. I know that it's confusing. Unfortunately, I can't help it. In my mind, Uranus is Haruka, Pluto is Setsuna, and Neptune is Michelle. That's just the way it is. Please try to overlook it, because I probably won't be changing that any time soon…though I appreciate the advice.

Oh, and I've nominated a fic by MintChocolate5 for the Annual Sailor Moon Reader's Choice Awards. I'm going to be shameless and ask y'all to check out/vote for her story (http:// awards dot smfanfiction dot net).

And my thanks to whomever nominated "After Everything" for the same contest. One of these days, I'm gonna find out who it was, but until then, just know that I think you're awesome!

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As always, many thanks to my angel of a beta, **Destiny'sDarkness**! (Credit for the bell comment goes to her, as well.)

Also, thanks to all of you who reviewed. Eighteen reviews for the last chapter! I'm truly overwhelmed.

Okay. Shutting up now. On to the chapter!

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CHAPTER FOUR: Blonde and Buxom...Or Not So Much

She wasn't his type.

He only needed only one glance to realize this, though he refused to acknowledge how shallow that made him. He _wasn't _shallow, damn it, but he knew what he liked, and this girl wasn't it.

Oh, she was pretty enough—or at least he thought she was; it was hard to tell when he was currently standing at a window two stories above and across the street from her—but he wasn't dismissing her just because she wasn't blonde or eye-poppingly buxom. He wasn't _that_ bad.

He _was_ dismissing her because she wasn't as flashy as his women usually were, and, yes, because she wasn't flaunting herself. He liked women who were bold, confident, willing to go after what—or who—they wanted without shame or hesitance. He didn't know anything about this girl, but he could already see that she wasn't exactly…bold. Even from this distance, the carefully still posture made her seem quiet, contained. Probably complicated, because the quiet ones always were.

He wasn't a big fan of _complicated_. He wanted women who were transparent, easy to understand if not…well, _easy_ in other ways. Simple women made for simple relationships. No confusion. No commitment.

Lots of fun.

Then again, he later realized, that it was the quietness of her that first caught his attention. She'd been sitting there for so long, doing nothing, speaking to no one, and that made him curious. What was her problem?

_Maybe her boyfriend dumped her or something, _he thought, smirking just a little. _It would explain the vacant staring. Bit pathetic, really. _

The hours wore on, and except for the occasional glance out his window to see if she was still there, he tried to push her from his mind. He had a business to run, after all, and one shy, sad little girl could hardly be so fascinating that he couldn't focus on his job, right?

And even if he'd realized just how often he was looking out his window that afternoon, he would never have allowed himself to dwell on it.

Still, though he wasn't looking at her that often—really, he _wasn't—_he hadn't missed how often her head turned towards the entrance of his building. What was she looking for?

"What are you looking for?"

Zoicite jumped, tried to pretend he hadn't as he turned to face the silver-haired man leaning against the door. From the way Malachite was looking at him, the other man obviously hadn't bought it.

Zoi gave it up as a lost cause. "Gods, Mal," he muttered, "make some noise when you walk, will you? Or tie a bell around your neck or something! You scared the crap out of me."

Mal's answering chuckled was positively sardonic. "You'll be fine, Zoi," the taller man retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "As full of it as you are, I think you can spare some _crap._"

Zoi started to roll his eyes, stopping only when he realized that he couldn't do that and glare at his friend at the same time. "Don't you have work to do?" he shot back. "A chapter to write? Publishers to terrorize?"

Malachite was smirking openly by then. "I _am_ terrorizing my publisher," he grinned. "And I must say, it's pathetically easy." The tall man pushed himself away from the door, crossed the room to stand beside Zoicite at the window. "Seriously, though, what are you looking at? You were completely zoned out."

The color rising in Zoicite's cheeks couldn't quite be called a blush…mostly because he'd forgotten how to blush back in elementary school and was probably no longer even capable of it. "Nothing."

The word sounded more sullen than it should have, but when Mal glanced over at him, his friend didn't bother to address it. Malachite only turned away from the window, one elegant, silver brow raised in a question he wouldn't voice.

Zoicite cleared his throat, turned back to his desk and began shuffling random papers. "Have you finished that chapter yet?"

If Malachite recognized the deliberate shift in topic, he was too gracious himself to dwell on it. "Almost. I'm having some trouble with the ending, but it'll work itself out. It always does."

Zoicite nodded. However annoying Malachite might be as a friend and person, he'd always been a publisher's dream. He churned out novels like other people did…well, whatever it was that other people churched out.

And, far more importantly, his novels _sold. _Zoicite loved the man like a brother, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that he loved the money Malachite made him, as well.

Money was _always _good…mostly because money meant women.

Zoi really liked women.

_Just not complicated ones. _

He didn't realize that he'd been staring out the window again, or that he'd been silent for far too long. He also didn't notice the strange look Malachite was giving him.

"Who is she?"

If Zoicite had flinched and almost fallen out of his chair before, it was nothing compared to how badly he jumped _now. _"What?"

Malachite rolled his eyes. "The girl," he began again, speaking slowly in case Zoicite was as mentally retarded as he currently seemed. "Who is she? You've been staring at her for almost five minutes now."

Zoicite began shuffling papers again. _At this rate, I'll never find any of the forms I need ever again. _"I don't know what you're talking about, Mal."

Malachite would have been grinning if he'd been anyone else. As it was, the corners of his lips were suspiciously turned up. "Right. I believe you. Millions wouldn't, of course, but I do."

Zoi groaned. The only thing more annoying than Malachite was Malachite in one of his sarcastic moods. "I really don't know what you're talking about," he muttered. "I've never met the girl, so why would I be staring at her?"

"Maybe because you _want _to meet her?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Anyone can see that she's not my type."

"Why, because she's not throwing herself at that waiter like the rest of your women would? Or because it's not immediately obvious that her chest is three times larger than her brain?"

Zoicite rolled his eyes. "That didn't even make sense."

"Sure, it did. And stop trying to change the subject. Why can't you just admit that you're finally attracted to someone who might not be a complete bimbo?"

_Note to self: Kill Malachite, then get a new best friend. Preferably in that order, but I'm not picky. _"I'm not attracted to her, Mal." He was proud of himself for keeping his voice even.

Malachite _was _grinning, now. "I believe you," he repeated, laughing openly. "Millions wouldn't, but I—"

"Shut up, Mal."

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She was still there when Zoicite finally called it quits for the day. He dropped his overly-shuffled papers into a drawer, groaning slightly as he threw on his coat and left his office. He hadn't allowed himself to glance out his window since Mal left his office, but he wasn't all that surprised when, after he'd exited the building, he glanced over at the café and found a by-now-familiar girl still slouched over her table.

He paused, watching her with open curiosity. She was reading what appeared to be a magazine, though her face was scrunched up with so much distaste that she might actually have been in pain. From the way her jaw was clenched, he could tell she was grinding her teeth together.

She was reaching for what he assumed was coffee when a young blonde woman detached herself from the crowd of pedestrians and moved to stand over the first girl's table. The blue-haired young woman glanced up at the newcomer, then, after what seemed like an exaggerated pause, suddenly—and _violently—_shoved the magazine away.

She looked…guilty? Over a magazine? _Interesting. _

The blue-haired girl—_Why in the world would she dye her hair that color? It's kind of pretty, but we're not living in San Francisco_—muttered something to her friend, who immediately started…cackling.

No other word for it, not when he could hear it from across the street._ Good Lord, the girl sounds like Jed. _

_Hmmm…maybe I should tell Jed that he apparently sounds like a girl when he laughs? No, better save that one for later._

The girl looked like she wanted nothing more than to find a nice hole to crawl into as the blonde continued laughing hysterically, but she seemed patient enough as she yanked her cackling friend into a chair. Fortunately for them all, the laughter eased as soon as the blonde was sitting, though Blue Hair still seemed embarrassed. _And I don't blame her. Was that girl a hyena in her past life? Or maybe she was just Jed's sister. Or his soul mate, but that's too frightening to contemplate, because then they might decide to breed and populate the world with hyena-children. _

He blinked, gathering his scattered thoughts and abruptly realizing that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at two strange girls like some kind of perverted stalker. _Now, that just won't do. If I'm going to stalk the girl, I should at least know her name. _

Or at least the name of the blonde, because even if she was a hyena, she was lovely even at this distance_. I'll just have to keep her from laughing…ever. _

And, just like that, he was crossing the street.

Maybe he'd zoned out for longer than he'd thought, because by the time he approached the two, the blue-haired girl was already on her feet, obviously preparing to leave. Her face was still turned away, but as she spun around, he noticed the slender book clutched almost desperately against her chest.

_Book worm, _he decided, almost disappointed. He didn't particularly like smart women.

He might have given her up, at that, because he really didn't do complicated--and smart almost _always _meant complicated--but his feet didn't seem to be obeying him. They were still carrying him towards the girl, and he had just enough time to catch her quick farewell to her friend before she crashed into his chest.

He didn't try to catch her. It would have been a horrible cliché, but even so, he was simply too surprised to react in time. It didn't really matter, though, as the blonde was quicker than he could ever have been. She jumped forward, grabbing the other girl's elbows and keeping her from eating pavement.

He was about to play the gentleman and ask the blue-haired girl if she was all right…but his eyes met the blonde's, and all coherent thought left him.

She was _beautiful. _Not in the flashy, superficial way most of his bimbos were—and yes, he could admit that they were all bimbos now that Mal wasn't around—but in the way that Greek goddesses must have been beautiful. She was flawless, if somewhat intimidating for it, and even with the hyena laugh, he almost asked for her number.

Her glare stopped him.

…_the hell? _

The blonde's face had gone completely hard, and she was staring at him with so much loathing that he started wondering when he'd killed her best friend or run over her puppy. _What mental asylum did this one escape from?_

_I don't do crazy, either. What's her deal?_

Any attraction died.

It was a relief to tear his eyes from her and turn with false concern towards her blue-haired friend. "Are you all right, miss?" He forced a smile to his lips.

The girl with the blue hair looked up.

He heard her breath catch as she stared up at him, but he hadn't really noticed, because both his lungs _and _his heart had completely stopped working.

Even if the blonde hadn't been crazy, he'd have forgotten her anyway.

_She's gorgeous. _

Who'd have thought that the insane blonde goddess would have an even more stunning friend?

He couldn't help studying—all right, _staring _at_—_her. He still thought that she wasn't flashy—though she should have been, with that hair—but he no longer knew why that was a bad thing. This girl didn't _need _to flaunt herself to get attention; she probably had every male in a five-mile radius dropping at her feet every time she went out in public. Beside her, even the most attractive of his women seemed…fake.

He'd never seen eyes like hers on anyone. If it hadn't been another cliché, he might have insisted—_why _would_ he be insisting, and to whom?_—that they sparkled. He looked into them and thought of the ocean, of a cloudless summer sky, of…

He needed to stop before he started drooling. What was _wrong _with him?

Zoicite took a hasty step back, cleared his throat rather uncomfortably and tried not to notice how both women were gaping at him. _Do I have something stuck to my face? _The blonde was also still glaring at him, he noted, and if anything, her anger seemed only to have grown in the seconds since he'd first literally bumped into them. He could hear her teeth grinding together, and her fingers were digging so hard into the blue-haired girl's arms that he knew they'd leave bruises.

As for the other girl…

Maybe she was just naturally pale, but even so, _nobody _should be that white. She didn't have any color at all in her face, and he wondered if she felt as sick as she looked. For a moment, he actually wondered if she was about to puke on him.

_Not the way I want her to introduce herself, that's for sure. _He took another step back.

The blue-haired girl seemed steady enough on her feet, by now, but she hadn't pulled away from the blonde. She only continued staring up at him, her mouth hanging slightly open.

It should have been unattractive. It wasn't.

Silence stretched out between them.

_Awkward much? _"I'm terribly sorry about that, miss," he finally muttered, the words sounding forced, even to him. "Are you all right?"

_You already asked her that, you moron. At least say something new! _

He was acting like a nervous, lovesick teenager with his first serious crush. He mentally shook himself, mustered up his most charming smile and used it to hide his agitation.

She didn't seem to notice the smile. She was still ogling him, though the perfect skin on her forehead was crinkling with her sudden frown. She whispered something, and he thought it might have been his name.

_Nah. Couldn't be. I'd have remembered someone like her. And how else could she know me, if we haven't actually met? I'm not famous like Mal._

_Infamous, maybe, but that's not the same thing. _

"Have we met?"

He felt like a fool for asking, though he hadn't been able to help himself. The blonde was making him positively twitchy, but he'd do anything to prolong his conversation with her friend.

_I'm so pathetic, but I don't think I really care right now. Gods, those eyes…_

The blonde answered for her, and when she did, her voice was laced with so much venom that he actually took _another_ step back.

"Yes, we've met," she hissed, sparks practically shooting from her blue eyes.

He sent her another mega-watt smile, though it was completely fake. This girl _scared _him, and _nobody_ could give a sincere smile when faced with that much loathing. "I'm terrible with names," he told her, trying to keep his voice soothing and friendly. "Please forgive me." He held out a hand to the blonde, deciding it would be better to calm this raging psychopath before he spoke to his true interest. "I'm Zachary Taylor."

The blonde rolled her eyes, though he thought something in her face had sharpened, for all that. "Of course you are." The disgust in her voice was palpable.

He raised an eyebrow, forced himself not to react for fear of upsetting the blue-haired beauty. "And you are?"

Blonde Psycho's glare intensified, though he wouldn't have thought that could even be possible. "Not interested."

_I wasn't really talking to you, psycho. _He knew better than to say it, though he couldn't help glancing over at her friend once more.

The blonde apparently didn't like that, because she sent another glare of disgust his way, then suddenly spun on her heel and began marching in the opposite direction. She hadn't released her friend, however, and the blue-haired girl squeaked in surprise as she was dragged along in Crazy's wake. "Mi—"

The blonde suddenly stiffened, her head whipping around so quickly that he wondered if she'd hurt herself. Her blue eyes had darkened with absolute fury, her full lips pressing into a hard, grim line.

_At least she's not glaring at _me_, this time. _

And she wasn't. Her blue-haired friend had taken the brunt of the ire, which must have been why she'd suddenly choked off whatever she'd been about to say.

Blue was looking guilty again, even horrified. _Why? Because she almost told me Crazy's name? Why would I care? Why would _they _care if I knew it?_

_What was _that_ about? _

The anger in the blonde's face hadn't eased in the slightest, but she must have seen the honest chagrin in Blue's expression, because she only sighed and started moving away again. She even released her friend, though the other girl apparently no longer needed to be dragged.

Neither woman looked back before they disappeared into the crowds blocking the sidewalk, but Zoicite wouldn't have chased after them even if they had.

Though, oh, how he wanted to.

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from the last place he'd seen them, instead glanced down. The magazine was still on the table, open to the last page the blue-haired girl had been reading. He moved closer, curiosity getting the better of him.

And then his eyes widened, surprised laughter bubbling from his chest and easing the tension that had inexplicably formed there when the blue-haired girl had left.

_25 Ways to Improve Your Sex Life! _

So _this _was what the girl had been reading! He sent another quick look in the direction the two women had gone, but his gaze no longer held anything more than amusement. _I think that girl and I need to get better acquainted. _

_Complicated, indeed._

* * *

VenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurfVenusSmurf 

* * *

**Venus Smurf's Quotes for the Day:**

**Courtesy of MintChocolate5: **You're so stupid, your mother asked you to go buy a color television, and you asked, "What color?"

**Courtesy of Sassy-Chan: **Employee of the month is a good example of how someone can be both a winner and a loser at the same time.

**Courtesy of JadesRose: **"I have found men who didn't know how to kiss…but I've always found the time to teach them." Mae West

**Courtesy of Venus Smurf: **It takes forty-six muscles to frown, but only four to flip 'em the bird...


	5. Unwanted Answers

**A.N.:**Sorry, but this isn't a new chapter. It's just the last one rewritten—I cut some scenes and tweaked others, and hopefully it'll make more sense this time around.

My thanks to **Destiny's Darkness** for the advice!

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE: Unwanted Answers

* * *

"I found him." 

Mina was across Amy's bedroom in less than an instant, reaching Amy's side almost before the tiny genius had finished speaking. She hovered over Amy, one hand lightly resting on the younger girl's shoulder as she bent to look at Mercury's computer.

The blonde wasn't smiling as she began scanning the words scrawled across the monitor, and Amy couldn't help wincing at the tension still tightening the older girl's lips. Mina had been like this ever since their encounter with Zoicite a few hours before, and Amy was starting to wonder if the familiar mischievous humor would ever return to the blonde's eyes. She wished it would, because it just wasn't…_natural_ for Mina not to be laughing.

Amy winced again, knowing that she was almost as much to blame for Mina's anger as Zoicite her…er, _him_self. Zoicite was just another enemy, even if he was one they'd fought before, but Amy…

Amy should have known better. What was wrong with her, that she'd almost used Mina's name in front of him? If Mina hadn't stopped her in time, Amy might have given Zoicite a way to find them. What had she been thinking?

She hadn't.

Mina was right to be furious.

Not that Mina had said anything, or that she would. That wasn't the way the blonde worked, and in any case, they both knew Amy was punishing herself enough.

"Is this all we know about him?"

Amy bit her lip, forehead wrinkling as she allowed her own eyes to rake back over the words on the screen. "Yes." She sighed, glancing almost apologetically up at the head of the senshi. "He's just a publisher, Mina. He's not important enough to have fangirl sites or a government file. This is the best I could do."

Mina glanced down at her friend, and perhaps she'd caught the misery in Amy's expression, because her own suddenly eased. "It's fine, Amy," she murmured almost gently, though she'd already turned her eyes back to the data Amy had collected. The blonde reached out, ran a slender finger down the screen as she read. "I'm not blaming you."

The tiny genius went rigid, wondering if that applied to the fiasco with Zoicite, as well.

Mina couldn't possibly have missed the strain in Amy's posture, but she didn't pursue it. She simply continued reading, her blue eyes sharp with more intelligence than she usually allowed herself to show. Her lips were moving soundlessly as she read, but then she stiffened, her finger pausing roughly halfway down the screen. Amy heard the blonde's breath hitch, and she thought those blue eyes hardened just a little more. "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

Amy leaned forward, eyes locking onto the place Mina was indicating. She frowned. "What?"

She hadn't really needed to ask. The answer became obvious as soon as she followed Mina's finger to the screen. _Is this…? _

Amy's eyes widened, and she began to curse softly.

Mina pulled her finger back, letting her hand drop down to her side. She was a trifle paler than she'd been, but her expression had become almost infuriatingly calm. "Well," she muttered after a long moment of silence, her voice curiously tight for all that it was so emotionless, "I guess that answers that."

Amy's head jerked in something that wasn't quite a nod. She didn't have the words to make a reply; a single thought was running through her head, and it was unpleasant enough that she couldn't focus on anything else.

_Which one of us will be their executioner?_

* * *

Raye was angry. 

Granted, Raye was pretty much always angry—saying that Raye was furious was like saying the sun had risen in the east or that winter followed autumn. It was just the natural order of things, and it really meant nothing. Still, today was different, if only because Raye's anger had reached monumental proportions. She wasn't just mad…she was_furious_.

And she had reason to be. It wasn't every day, after all, that Raye had to deal with a psychotic killer lying in wait to attack and murder her. It wasn't every day that she had to worry about said psychotic killer chasing down her friends or trying to take over the world, either.

Oh, wait…that _was_ something she worried about every day…

Raye sighed. Sometimes she really hated her life.

It didn't help that for once she didn't know what she was dealing with, how she should react. All of the other enemies had followed a predictable pattern, a sort of villain's code of conduct with steps that they all seemed to obey religiously: they'd decide to attack the earth—and get some truly hideous outfit to celebrate the occasion—send a minion to collect energy or freaky mirrors or whatever the heck the bad guys wanted that time, then stupidly expect that minion to annihilate the senshi all on its own.

Not that Raye really blamed their enemies for underestimating the senshi. Nobody in their right minds—not that their enemies ever _were_, of course—would expect girls in mini-skirts to be fighters at all, let alone decent ones. Still, none of the senshi could ever understand why, after the first goon had melted or evaporated or turned to ash, the bad guys always decided to just repeat the process.

Wasn't that the definition of stupidity—doing the same thing over and over and still expecting a different outcome?

Raye wasn't complaining—their idiocy certainly made her life easier, and she could even say she liked the pattern. Sure, she usually ended up dying horribly in the inevitable final battle, but at least it was…simple. Predictable.

_This_ wasn't exactly simple, because this enemy wasn't acting like he should. He hadn't sent a single minion—no, not _one_—and as far as they knew, he wasn't directly attacking anybody.

It was frustrating as hell.

She didn't know what to expect from Malachite. She had no doubt at all that he was evil, but he hadn't made a move. He hadn't done anything to warrant suspicion, though of course Raye wasn't going to let a little thing like that stop her. Malachite was going to die, and _soon_.

It_ had _to be soon, in any case. Raye had been noticeably distracted since all of this had begun, and she hated that. She resented the fact that she hadn't been able to concentrate in class, that her mind couldn't let go of the possibilities or her fears. She also hated the fact that, today of all days and the first time since she'd known him, her professor had actually _noticed_ that she kept zoning out.

Noticed and called her on it.

She'd been embarrassed. Raye was a proud woman, and hearing the little titters from her idiotic classmates when the professor had called her name yet again had really grated on her last nerve.

Raye had tried to be good and just take it, really she had, but she didn't have patience even on her best days, and this certainly hadn't been one of her best days. After only a few minutes, she'd stood, her face pale with fury, her mulberry eyes snapping with her ire, and told the professor where to go. Then, knowing full well that she'd regret all of it later, she'd stormed from the class.

At least the titters had stopped.

Raye knew better than to give herself a chance to think about the consequences of her actions as she stomped from the campus, and she knew that as long as she stayed mad, she wouldn't have to. So she fed her anger, dredged up every memory of Malachite, forced herself to remember the pain he'd inflicted, the heartache he'd caused.

It was a good thing that she still didn't know where he lived.

And it was a very _bad_ thing that Raye knew where _Amy_ lived._Even if I have to kill her in the process, I'll get that address. Malachite is going to _die.

She was halfway to Amy's when her phone began to ring, and she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, cursing violently as she dug around in her bag for the obnoxious thing. _Why didn't I think to just call her? She might not even be home._

_Oh, yeah. Easier to torture information from her in person._

Raye lifted the cover of her phone, put it to her ear without bothering to see who might be calling. "_What?"_

"Um…Raye?"

Raye almost cackled with malicious glee. _Perfect._"Amy," she began, voice soft and as deadly as a knife thrown expertly in the dark, "just the person I wanted to talk to." Her voice dropped even more, became almost seductive. "Where are you, Ames? We really need to chat."

Amy cleared her throat rather awkwardly, obviously sensing the danger she was in. "I…don't think I should tell you, Raye," she finally said. "You sound a little too much like a bad villain right now."

A look of hurt crossed Raye's face, though of course it wasn't real, and she knew Amy couldn't see it anyway. "You wound me, Amy," she said. "Why would you say something like that?"

Amy sighed into the phone. "You're plotting my death right now, aren't you." It wasn't really a question.

Raye considered it anyway, then settled on telling the truth. "No," she retorted. "I'm not plotting _your_ death, Ames. I'm plotting _Malachite's_." She huffed. "Don't be silly."

The senshi of ice sighed again, and if there was just a tiny bit of relief in the sound…well, that was to be expected. "Mina said you're not allowed to go near him, Raye."

The priestess rolled her eyes at the unnecessary reminder. "I _know _Mina said I can't kill him," she bit back, "but I really, really want to, Amy, and after all he did, he deserves to die. Won't you be a good friend and just tell me where he lives?"

"What happened, Raye?"

Raye started to shrug, belatedly remembered that Amy couldn't see that, either. "He pissed me off," she answered simply.

"How? Did you run into him or something?"

"No." She snorted. "If I'd seen him, don't you think he'd already be dead?" She sighed. "I was just thinking about him, and…stuff happened. I'm annoyed, and it's his fault that I was distracted, so now I want to kill him." She paused, considered her own words, ignored the fact that she sounded a bit too much like Mina. "More than I already did, anyway."

Silence.

"Pretty please, Amy? It'll only take a minute or two. You tell me where he lives, I run over and fry him…I'll be home for dinner, and then Mina won't have to worry about him anymore. We'll all be happy."

"Raye…"

Amy's voice should have been dismissive, maybe even irritated. It _shouldn't_ have been hesitant, not even a little bit.

Raye's eyes sharpened, even her rather playful fury fading. "What's wrong, Amy?" she suddenly demanded, voice as hard as her face had become. "What aren't you telling me?"

Amy was silent for a long moment. Then… "We've found something, Raye," she finally muttered. "We think it might be our answer."

"Answer?"

"About whether or not Malachite is actually evil."

Raye nodded, voice becoming brisk, businesslike. Soldier-like. "I'll be at the temple in twenty minutes," she told her fellow warrior, knowing that whatever it was couldn't be said over the phone.

She snapped her phone shut, not even bothering to say goodbye before she turned and began sprinting in the opposite direction. She'd disappeared in less than an instant, never once noticing the thoughtful green eyes that had been trained on her the entire time, never once realizing that her conversation had been overheard.

* * *

**A.N.**I cut this scene, because it just didn't fit, but I could see it happening under different circumstances, so I thought I'd let you read it anyway.

* * *

"Paper." 

"Damn. Rock."

"Ha! I win! I'm da _bomb!_"

Pause. Then… "There's no logic in this. Rock should squash paper."

"That's stupid. Paper is already flat."

"Maybe, but at least the rock will hold the bloody paper down."

Another pause in the argument, this one borne more from amusement. "That's quite the potty mouth you've developed, Ames. Someone's obviously been spending too much time around Haruka."

Amy rolled her eyes, though she didn't bother to reply. She'd learned, over the years, that sometimes ignoring Mina was the only way to preserve her sanity; this was one of those times.

The blonde was smirking. "I won," she joyfully informed her tiny companion, "so you have to call Raye."

* * *

**Venus Smurf's Quotes of the Day:**

**Courtesy of JadesRose: **My body was willing, but the lips refused to comment.

**Courtesy of XyoushaX **(Well, this is part of XyoushaX's response to the chapter, but it was funny enough that I want to quote it):

Amy's response to Zoi's flirting:

Zoicite: "Interesting magazine you were reading."

Amy: (sniff) "Weren't you supposed to be a girl?"

**Courtesy of Venus Smurf: **"I love to shop after a bad relationship. I don't know. I buy a new outfit and it makes me feel better. It just does. Sometimes I see a really great outfit, I'll break up with someone on purpose." (Rita Rudner)


	6. Crazy Chicks

**A.N.: **I'm still trying to decide if Jed and Nephrite are OOC, but this is sort of the way I've always seen their non-evil selves, so I'm hoping it's not too bad. Anyway, don't forget to review! I'll be less likely to go another six months between updates if I get reviews.

Thanks to my beta, **Destiny's Darkness**, for finding my many mistakes!

* * *

CHAPTER SIX: Crazy Chicks

"_We've found something, Raye," she finally muttered. "We think it might be our answer."_

"_Answer?"_

"_About whether or not Malachite is actually evil."_

_Raye nodded, voice becoming brisk, businesslike. Soldier-like. "I'll be at the temple in twenty minutes," she told her fellow warrior, knowing that whatever it was couldn't be said over the phone. _

_She snapped her phone shut, not even bothering to say goodbye before she turned and began sprinting in the opposite direction. She'd disappeared in less than an instant, never once noticing the thoughtful green eyes that had been trained on her the entire time, never once realizing that her conversation had been overheard. _

_

* * *

  
_

"Jed, if you freaking sigh one more freaking time, I'm gonna freaking kill you."

Jed didn't even look over from where he was lying on his back on Nephrite's couch, though the threat might have been real enough. He only frowned and continued staring up at the ceiling of Nephrite's apartment with the same depressed expression he'd had all afternoon. "You'd sigh, too," he said, voice genuinely and somehow still overdramatically morose, "if the woman you'd been pining after turned out to be a psychopathic killer bent on slaughtering one of your best friends."

Nephrite rolled his eyes, though if he was considering murder himself, it couldn't _quite _be seen in his face. "Stop being such a girl," he finally told Jed, wishing the other man would just shut up and let him watch the game. Wasn't that why Jed was here, anyway? To watch the big game on Nephrite's freakishly expensive plasma screen? Nephrite was all for being there for his friend in his time of need, but if he'd wanted to sit around discussing members of the opposite sex like a couple of hormonal pre-pubescent girls, he'd have thrown a freaking slumber party. "It's not like she'd _really _kill him," he reluctantly pointed out, knowing he was probably just prolonging the conversation but also realizing that Jed wouldn't shut up until he realized how ridiculous he was being.

Jed shifted, lifting his head briefly to peer over at the friend sitting in an overstuffed chair near his feet, then allowing it to flop back down. "You're only saying that because you didn't hear her," he retorted. "She sounded pretty dang serious to me." He sighed again, blatantly ignored the answering groan of frustration from Nephrite. "Why do I always fall for the crazy ones?"

Nephrite rolled his eyes yet again. "You know they're the only ones that will have you, that's why." He snorted. "And how long have you known this girl, anyway? You've had, what, two weeks of classes with her? That's hardly cause to mourn, you retard."

Jed once again lifted his head, and this time his glare lasted a little longer before his expression faded back into that same melodramatic misery. "Give me _some _credit," he snapped back. "It's been_ three_ weeks, and anyway, this is the love of my life we're talking about! My soul mate! The future mother of my unborn children! Can't you see how serious this is?"

_Yeah, the love of your life who doesn't even know you exist, because all you've done is ogle her from afar, like an exceptionally idiotic stalker. And even if she _is_ your soul mate, the gods aren't stupid enough to let you contribute to the gene pool. _

Nephrite somehow kept himself from rolling his eyes for what was probably the fiftieth time in as many minutes. "Such a girl," he muttered under his breath before turning back to the television.

"And do you know what the worst part is?"

Nephrite fought the urge to chuck the remote at his friend's head. Only the knowledge that Jed's thick skull would probably break the device stopped him, because honestly, how long was the man going to go on about this? So the chick was nuts. So what? Either get over it or get over _her_, right?

_When did I miss Jed's sex change? Or maybe he was just a girl in his last life, and the female tendencies come back when he's under stress._

_Note to self: as soon as the game is over and Jed is done wallowing, I need to take him out and get him into a bar fight or something. It's the only way he'll ever regain his man points. _

Nephrite hadn't answered and obviously wasn't even really listening, but that had never deterred Jed. "The worst part," the tall, blond man continued morosely, "is that Mal didn't even care. I told him that the love of my life was going to try and off him, and all he said was that I needed to grow a pair and stop being such a girl about it."

Neph snorted. _I knew there was a reason I liked Mal. _

"Did he even know who she was?" The question was asked almost hesitantly, because honestly, what sane man would keep this conversation going? Still, Nephrite could admit to being curious. A lot of women acted crazy around Malachite, but when most women talked of assaulting the man, they weren't thinking of the kind of bodily assault that would actually cause _harm_.

…_and, ew. Now I'm twitching and might have to shoot myself. That's just…not right._

Jed made a face, unaware of the mental images Nephrite was now desperately trying to purge from his brain. "No. He said that the only crazy stalker chick he's met recently was blonde. Raye has black hair, and she's not the type of woman a man forgets anyway." He sighed…_again_. "I just can't stop wondering why she hates him so much. I mean, if you're gonna threaten some guy's life, doesn't it mean that you have some kind of history together? I love Mal like a brother, but I already have too many rivals when it comes to Raye, and I don't need someone like him getting in my way."

_Rivals? For a psycho girl? And for a psycho girl who doesn't know you're alive, no less? How can he even… _Sigh of his own, at that. _Never mind. I don't want to know any more about Jed's love life, or even lack thereof. It's not good for my sanity. _

Jed _isn't good for my sanity. I need new friends. _

Still, Nephrite couldn't help grinning. "I don't think you'd need to worry about Malachite as competition, Jed," he told his friend. "No matter how women fantasize about his writer persona, he's not exactly…well, you know."

Jed cocked an eyebrow in Nephrite's direction. "Outgoing? More charismatic than a rock? Friendlier than a serial killer?"

"Yeah. That."

It was Jed's turn to roll his eyes. "And you think that _matters_? He's rich, he's famous, and though I'm a guy and so totally have not ever looked, he's not ugly. What girl wouldn't want him?"

_Like I can answer that and still be straight. _"You're such a friggin' chick, Jed."

Jed just sighed.

And then sighed again.

And again.

And…

"_Ow!"_

Nephrite smirked and turned back to the game. He'd buy another remote later.

* * *

"…and I call dibs!"

"You don't get to call dibs on an execution, you homicidal nutcase!"

Very brief pause at that, and even from across the temple courtyard, Raye could make out Haruka's groan of frustration. "…fine, we can share," she muttered, though even her mutters were too loud, "but I still say I should get the first shot at him."

"And what makes you think that _you _get…"

Raye was grateful, as always, that the shrine was so isolated. Haruka and Lita weren't exactly being quiet, and Raye could only wonder what her non-existent neighbors would have thought if they'd heard _this_.

_It's all ridiculous, anyway. They're using _my _house as a base, and it's _my _life Malachite is messing up. Isn't it obvious that _I_ should get the first shot at him?_

The argument continued as Raye sprinted across the courtyard to her own quarters, but she was no longer listening. All she cared about was getting inside, getting the plan from Mina—who always had a plan, even for something like this—and then asserting her own right to Malachite's death. _If I don't hurry, Haruka will beat me to it. Freakin' violent psychopath…_

The shouts grew slightly louder as Raye, who'd completely failed to notice the hypocrisy of her own thoughts, dashed up the steps to her bedroom. She slid the door aside, not at all surprised to find her fellow warriors already ensconced in her bedroom, her things scattered across the room, the snacks she'd bought just that morning _for herself _already reduced to a pile of shredded wrappers. Still, for once Raye didn't bother to throttle a certain blonde airhead—or to question why the wrappers were shredded in the first place—or even to wonder which of them had picked the locks on her bedroom door this time. She only pushed herself into the rather crowded room—only Darien and Setsuna were missing, with the cats supposedly on guard duty—pausing just long enough to slide the door shut behind her before immediately moving to Mina's side. "Who did he kill, and when can _I_ kill _him_?"

For once Raye didn't sound angry, or irritated, or as if she were on the verge of murdering them all and was just trying to control the rage in her voice so they wouldn't know death was coming until escape was no longer possible. She _did _sound out of breath—though that was probably to be expected when she'd just sprinted across the city without stopping—and possibly a little too eager, but maybe they'd just become so conditioned to Raye's irritation that any other emotion in her seemed almost abnormal.

Which was probably abnormal in itself, but then again, what in their lives wasn't?

Mina raised an eyebrow in her dark-haired friend's direction, her expression remaining impassive in the face of Raye's rather atypical enthusiasm. "Amy found what we were looking for," she simply said, avoiding Raye's comment and instead inclining her head towards Amy's computer.

Raye made a face, barely glanced at the monitor and then immediately shook her head and turned to Amy. "Give me the short version if you must, but know that I really don't care."

Even if the words hadn't been so blunt, judging by her tone, the priestess clearly didn't want to bother with any explanation at all. She'd been clamoring to go after Malachite before they'd had even a hint of evidence, and she didn't particularly want to waste time on it now. Still, Amy only rolled her eyes and attempted to explain anyway.

"I dug up every possible scrap of information I could find on this man," she said, her voice just a little apologetic. "His school records, his driving history, even his credit report, and from what I can tell, he's just a normal human. He didn't even have that many parking tickets, let alone anything really suspicious. It wasn't until I hacked into his accountant's files that I found any evidence at all."

Amy paused, obviously giving Raye another chance to look at the screen, but Raye only cocked an impatient eyebrow. "Money laundering? Not what I was expecting, but I can work with it. Do we get to keep the money after we kill him?"

Mina's lips quirked slightly at that, but Amy only groaned. "There isn't any money, Raye, but even if there were, keeping it would be just as illegal."

Raye shrugged, clearly wondering why that little detail was important, but she didn't press the matter. "Okay…did he at least kill his accountant?"

Mina seemed torn between shaking her head and snickering. She somehow managed to avoid both, though her eyes were dancing as she answered. "No, Raye, he didn't kill anyone."

"Then why do we care about his accountant?" The priestess paused, then scowled. "And wasn't this supposed to be the short version?"

The others hadn't really been listening to this conversation—they'd heard it before Raye had arrived, and most of them hadn't cared about evidence any more than Raye did, already moving on to the more important issue of selecting the executioner—but at this, Lita looked up from her place on Raye's bed. "They've been looking at his tax records," she explained, her expression only slightly less impatient than Raye's. "The guy stopped paying his taxes and pretty much disappeared completely right when Beryl showed up...then turned up again right after we killed her. You know that can't be a coincidence."

Raye grimaced, comprehension dawning. She considered the information for a very brief second, then visibly shrugged. "You could have just left it at 'tax evasion,' you know. Or the parking tickets. Or, I dunno, the whole 'existing' thing. I never really needed a reason to kill Malachite."

Mina's lips twisted in a quick grin, though it was a grin with an edge. "Zoicite," she corrected.

Raye blinked. "What?"

"Those aren't Malachite's tax returns," Mina almost blandly informed her purple-eyed friend. "Those are Zoicite's."

Raye blinked again. And again. Her mouth fell open, then abruptly snapped shut. "_What?" _she finally managed, though she seemed to be choking on whatever else she might have said.

Mina's grin only widened. "Did I forget to mention that the undead guy brought back one of his friends?"

Raye gaped at her leader for a full minute, her mouth still alternately opening and then closing, but then she took a deep breath, clearly trying to control the rising anger. "Figures," she muttered. "Why _wouldn't_ the dead guy bring back his dead girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend."

Mina's eyes were still dancing as confusion darkened Raye's eyes.

"What?" Raye finally asked.

Mina shrugged, her smile fading slightly as she reminded herself that she wouldn't exactly be laughing when either man finally started hurting people. "Zoicite is a he now, apparently."

Silence reigned for several long moments, and then Raye abruptly turned to Amy. "Am I allowed to add Mina to the hit list?"

Amy actually nodded.

Mina was still smiling, though none of the others quite noticed that the smile no longer reached her eyes. Still, it was Serena, not her blond cousin, who spoke next. "I still don't get it. Since when do the bad girls become the bad guys?"

Haruka, sitting across the room with her arm around Michelle and obviously still enjoying Raye's agitation, laughed at the confusion still on the blonde's face. "They don't...but just so you know, that sounded perverted."

Amy ignored Serena's blush and Haruka's second bout of laughter. "The Starlights switched genders all the time," she reminded the others, her eyes back on her computer and the data she'd read through half a dozen times already. "It's not that unusual."

Lita rolled her eyes. "You know we've seen too much weirdness when somebody randomly switching genders 'is not that unusual'. Does anyone else think we need to get new day jobs before we go completely nuts?"

"Are you sure she wasn't just cross-dressing?" This from Haruka. Of course.

"Positive. He was absolutely male." Had they been speaking of anyone else, Mina might have grinned again. As it was, she didn't miss the slight blush that inexplicably crossed Amy's cheeks, and she frowned instead.

"It's not like we haven't killed her...him...it?...before," Lita finally pointed out. "How tough can it be to take both of them on at once, especially when we're so much stronger now? And this does make it easier to decide who gets to do the honors." Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. "Maybe we should wait until they're all alive so we can each have one?"

Haruka looked as though she was seriously considering that.

Raye ignored this, shook her head, brushed away the anger, and turned to Mina, not giving Amy a chance to defend herself or the evidence only Mina and Serena had wanted anyway. "Is this enough for you? Can we kill him now? Preferably _before _he resurrects the lot of them?"

She hadn't really been joking, but when Mina only gazed back with a face that had once again become completely expressionless, Raye decided to count her leader's silence as tacit approval. "Okay, so when do I get to do this?"

...and as the fight started all over again, none of the senshi even noticed as Mina, hard-eyed but still emotionless, slipped from the room.

**

* * *

**

Several miles away, a dark-haired young man stared up at a seemingly innocent office building, trying to reconcile the boring exterior with the evil he'd been told lurked within. Light from the setting sun glinted off tinted windows, back into his eyes, but though he sighed, he didn't look away.

He couldn't see it, couldn't sense it. Had the senshi been wrong? It wouldn't be the first—

Well, no, it actually _would _be the first time they'd been wrong, at least about something like this. The senshi were too well trained, Amy too smart and Mina too cautious to make a mistake of this magnitude. If they believed they'd found enough evidence to justify what they were about to do, then who was he to question their instincts? Gods only knew how often those instincts had saved his life in the past.

...but what if they were wrong?

Darien sighed yet again, knowing that Serena wasn't any more convinced than he was. His tiny, flighty fiancée wasn't as..._hard _as some of the other senshi could sometimes be and had always been a little too inclined to see the good in others, but her instincts weren't usually wrong, either.

So who was he supposed to trust?

"I thought I'd find you here."

Darien was too much the soldier himself to jump, but he did wince slightly as he automatically spun to face the slender blonde. _One of these days, I'm going to figure out how they do that..._

Mina was leaning against a tree just a little behind and to the side of him, her arms crossed over her chest, the bright smile they'd all come to expect completely gone now. She looked like she'd been standing there for quite some time, but then he'd long since learned not to trust appearances when it came to Venus.

"Did Serena tell you about Zoicite?"

He nodded but remained silent. He didn't entirely trust Mina with his secrets—she was too calculating, and experience had made him cautious around her—and how could he really expect her to understand?

Then again, she didn't seem to _need_ an explanation. Mina didn't press for answers, only pursed her lips and turned to stare up at the office they now knew was Zoicite's. "You weren't at the meeting," she said, no judgment at all in her voice. "I could have used your input...even if you are a little too biased."

He couldn't argue with her. He _was _biased, probably even more than she knew, but he only frowned and considered what he should say. "I can't sense any evil here," he finally told her, his voice so quiet that only the inhuman girl beside him would have been able to hear. "If this was a base, wouldn't I be able to tell?"

"I don't know. Would you?"

Was she baiting him? "Yes. And so would you."

Her eyes were still locked on the building, and it was her turn to frown. "Probably...maybe. Beryl was never exactly subtle, but I think your men would be more than capable of hiding from us, Prince. If they'd learned their lesson, if they'd known you'd be watching for them, wouldn't they be more careful this time?"

He didn't think it was a question she expected him to answer. How could he, after so many years? No matter how much they'd once meant to him, he wasn't naïve enough to think he still knew them.

And maybe Mina realized that, as well, because she suddenly uncrossed her arms and stepped away from her tree. "If it helps," she told him, voice now soft with a compassion he wouldn't have expected from someone in her position, "it won't be tonight."

He did look at her then, surprise shooting one of his eyebrows into his hairline.

She shrugged in response to the question he hadn't asked, her expression completely closed. "I can play the executioner," she told him, no hesitation or guilt at all in the words. "It won't be the first time, and I wouldn't lose any sleep over it, but there are still too many questions that I need answered first. How did he do it? Is Beryl also back? If she is and we kill them, will we be able to find her again?" She paused, shook her head. "It won't be tonight," she said again.

He might have nodded, tried to reassure her, but she was already turning away. "Don't stay away too long, Darien," she told him, her words only just shy of an order though she was no longer looking at him. "You need to be a part of this, whatever happens."

She melted back into the trees without another word, and only then did Darien notice that the sun had set and the light was almost completely gone. He, too, sighed and turned to leave, knowing that he might as well return to his own apartment and wait for the sleep that hadn't come since all of this had started.

"_If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy, come on, sug—"_

Darien jumped, cursed, and quickly reached down to yank the phone from his pocket.

_I really need to stop letting Serena pick my ring tones. _

He lifted the phone to his ear, smiling just a little in spite of everything. "Hey, Serena..."

And then, as Serena began squealing on the other end of the line, he froze, eyes widening, face going slightly pale.

"What do you mean, Zoicite is a man?"

**

* * *

**

"I think I'm being stalked."

A pause, then... "...okay? Why are you telling _me_? I thought you had people for that?"

If Malachite had been anyone else, he might have been offended by the lack of worry in Nephrite's voice. As it was, he only sighed. "Your concern for me is overwhelming."

His friend chuckled. "I'm sure it is, but don't let it go to your head. Your ego is already freakishly huge."

There wasn't any point in replying to that.

"Your stalker doesn't happen to have black hair, does she?"

Malachite blinked, surprised by the question. "Sort of...but what makes you assume my stalker is a woman?"

"...because this is you, Mal. It's _always_ a woman...unless there's something you need to tell me?"

Malachite grimaced. "For the last time, I'm not gay."

"No offense, man, but nothing else can explain your hair."

Malachite chose to ignore the insult. "Why were you asking? Do you know something I don't?"

"Not really...but I'm pretty sure your stalker is Jed's girlfriend."

"Jed has a girlfriend? I thought we all decided the gods would never let him breed?"

"They must not have gotten the memo. And she's not really his girlfriend. Just...more like the person he's stalking himself."

Malachite shook his head, though of course Nephrite couldn't have seen. "You're referring to the woman who wants to kill me," he said, suddenly remembering the conversation he'd had with Jed only hours before. "This isn't her."

"How do you know? Have you met her? You said your stalker has black hair. So does she."

"We live in Japan. _Most_ of the women have black hair...but that's not relevant, because my stalker is a cat."

Another pause, this one slightly heavier.

"...did you forget to take your pills again, Mal?"

Malachite sighed. "I'm not on medication."

"Then you need to be."

Malachite couldn't quite keep the irritation from his expression, though of course Nephrite couldn't see that, either. "I'm not crazy. This cat is not normal."

Nephrite gave what could only be considered a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, back up. What cat?"

"The one sitting in my window, staring at me."

"...and why do you think it's stalking you?"

"Because every time I turn around, it's there, still watching me."

"That's what cats do. Maybe you're just paranoid? Really, _really _paranoid?"

Malachite couldn't quite deny the possibility. "Maybe, but I think there's something wrong with this cat. It doesn't hunt, all it does is stare at me, and it's been here for days."

"So you've got a stray hanging around. Is that really enough of a reason to go off your meds?"

Mal fought the urge to hang up on his friend. "I'm telling you, I'm not..."

He trailed off, suddenly distracted by the cat which, ironically, was no longer sitting in his window. "It's gone."

"The cat's gone? Problem solved, then."

Malachite couldn't quite bring himself to agree. "Maybe...or maybe it's up to something."

"...really. Medication. Get some."

Malachite didn't answer. He kept his cell at his ear as he moved quickly and quietly to the window, peered through the glass to the street outside. The light was long gone, and there weren't many streetlights, but he could just make out the dark shape slipping across his overgrown lawn and across the road.

"Mal?"

The cat stopped on the far sidewalk, seemed to pause, and then a slight, rather short figure detached itself from the tall bushes at the edge of his neighbor's property. The figure—Man? Woman? He couldn't tell—knelt before the cat, and only an instant later, the animal turned and sprinted down the street.

"Malachite? You there, man?"

Malachite started, finally remembered the friend waiting patiently on the other end of the line. "Yes. Sorry. I was just..."

He trailed off again, his mouth going slightly dry as the headlights from a passing car briefly flashed over the blonde woman standing across the street, her surprisingly beautiful and surprisingly familiar face unmistakably turned in his direction.

"Mal?"

"...I don't believe it."

"What's wrong?"

She was already gone. Somehow, in the space between his heartbeats, she'd disappeared back into the bushes, her tiny body swallowed by the darkness.

Malachite shook his head, swallowed, cleared his throat and tried to remember how to breathe. "Want the good news or the bad news first?"

Nephrite didn't even have to consider it. "Good."

"The good news? My stalker isn't Jed's girlfriend."

"Okay. And the bad?"

"I was right about the cat."

* * *

**Venus Smurf's Jokes of the Day:**

Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon, and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, You just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."

I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.

If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is: God is crying. And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is: Probably because of something you did.

**Courtesy of JadesRose:**

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.


End file.
